


Welcome to Toretto's

by jelasdax



Series: A Couple of Firsts [1]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind Date, First Dates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelasdax/pseuds/jelasdax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was going to kill Trinh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Toretto's

**Author's Note:**

> Written for trope_bingo Round 5, prompt: food and cooking. So obviously Dom and Mia own a restaurant instead of a market. 
> 
> I blame Los Bandoleros and the image of Dom Toretto in a white button down shirt for this.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

He was going to kill Trinh. 

“Look,” she’d said. “All you have to do is show up! You don’t have to take him home or anything. Just one little date… please?”

It had been the eyes that had done it; Brian had always been a sucker for nice eyes. And the fact that she’d offered to write up his case files for the month had made it almost impossible to say no.

This was what everyone kept on at him about, this right here: poor impulse control. If he’d just said no then he wouldn’t be here sitting across a table from the most boring man in existence. 

Of course, then he’d be doing his own paperwork. 

Tough choice. 

Without looking up from his menu Stasiak said, “We should share a bottle of wine.”

It was tempting in the sense that more alcohol could only make this easier, except that if they did get a bottle then he’d have to stay even longer while they drank it. So…

“I was thinking of a beer, actually.” Okay, that had come out a little too sharp. Going off the look on Stasiak’s face Brian needed to do damage control before things spiralled out of hand and Brian ended up having to go through his own files. 

All Brian had to do was see this through to the end, and it would be over with. And they hadn’t even ordered yet. Christ.

Brian tried to smile ruefully. “Wine goes to my head.”

The expression on Stasiak’s face and the once over he gave Brian told him that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Too bad," Stasiak leered. 

Brian was going to _kill_ Trinh. 

Someone approached the table on Brian's left. A deep voice said, "Welcome to-"

"Yeah, we're going to need another few minutes, thanks." 

Brian's eyes narrowed.

The dick he was unfortunately on a date with had the balls to smile at Brian after he'd just interrupted someone. That shit was so not going to fly. Brian turned to the waiter with a smile. "Sorry about that," he said, and man was he glad he could keep talking through just about anything because this dude was fucking hot. Even when he was levelling an unimpressed look at Stasiak's side of the table. 

Brian's mouth carried on without his brain, which was still stuck somewhere on _holy shit_. "Before you were so rudely interrupted, you were saying?" He tried out a grin. 

The guy’s gaze slid over to him. One eyebrow was raised, and his (absolutely gorgeous) eyes were chilly. The unimpressed look didn't waver in the force of Brian's grin. 

"Welcome to Toretto's," he said flatly. "I'll be your server for tonight. Do you need a few minutes more or would you like to order now." 

Was ordering off the menu an option? Brian kind of wanted to ask, but he'd also like to keep all his teeth. This guy had a lot of muscle on him. Like, wow. 

"You know," Brian heard himself say conspiratorially, "I think he might want some more time, but I would love a drink right about now. Do you have any recommendations?"

Brian pointedly didn't look over when he heard a strangled noise from the other side of the table. The view he was getting now was way more interesting. 

The waiter's lip twitched. His expression seemed a cross between _Yeah, I do; start with the company you keep_ and _I recommend having me_. 

Brian was probably projecting that last bit though, because all the waiter said was, "Beer, wine, or hard."

Oh man, so tempting to say 'hard' and flirt a little. So tempting. But again: untested waters, teeth, nose, etc.

"A beer sounds great." There, that came out normal. 

"Our craft beers are good. And of course there's Corona."

It was the 'of course' that decided it. "Then I'll have a Corona; thank you.”

Dark, amused eyes rested on him a moment longer. “Good choice. I'll get you that drink, and give you both a few more minutes to decide." 

Brian watched him go, and when the waiter disappeared around a corner he turned his attention back to the table. His neutral smile stayed fixed on his face despite the glare Stasiak was directing his way. Brian lifted his eyebrows and blinked at him.

Stasiak glared some more. “What was that all about?”

There were a few ways Brian could answer that, but most of them would probably end with them getting thrown out. Not something Brian was looking to do, especially since he’d missed lunch today. Playing stupid it was, then. 

“What was what about?”

It was a surprisingly effective tactic, and if it hadn’t been such a useful skill Brian might have been more annoyed at how people almost seemed to except a certain vapidness from him. But he had to admit that it did come in handy sometimes. 

Like now. 

Stasiak’s mouth tightened but he let it go. Brian gave it another beat, then prompted, “So, Sophie said you’ve been with the Bureau for a while now…” and he trailed off. Brian would do anything to get this evening over with, and if that included hearing Stasiak talk at him for an hour then so be it. Stasiak took the bait and Brian made the appropriate expressions and noises of someone listening. 

As promised, a few minutes later the waiter appeared with Brian’s beer. Stasiak abruptly shut up, and there was silence for a long moment as the beer clicked on the wooden table.

The waiter turned calm eyes on Stasiak. His voice was dry. "Can I get you something to drink." 

Bewilderingly, Stasiak looked at Brian before answering. "I'll have a glass of the house red." There was a pause, and then he added, "Thank you." It was grudgingly said, but hey, he'd said it. Brian still wasn't going to sleep with him, but at least the dick could be taught. 

"Not a problem." Fuck, that man's voice was deep. "Do you need some more time to decide on your food, or do you want to order now.” 

This time they both looked at Brian, who abruptly decided to make the most of this opportunity. He smiled at the waiter. "I'm not sure yet. Would you mind telling me what the specials are?"

The waiter's eyes flicked down to look at the menu that was clearly visible in front of Brian, which had 'Specials' emblazoned on the front, but he didn't call Brian out on it. Brian grinned when he listed the whole thing off, and when that gravelly voice ground to a halt Brian grinned up at him and ordered the tuna special. 

Stasiak ordered - something - and then the waiter left. Brian kept his disappointment from his face and prompted him to continue his extravagantly embellished story. Brian didn't pay too much attention, but that was because he already knew most of it - and despite what he was implying, Stasiak sure as hell hadn't been the lead agent on that case. 

At no point did Stasiak try and ask him about his own experience with the Bureau, his recent transfer or previous job, his hobbies, or in fact anything about Brian himself. It was kinda a letdown, because sometimes it was fun to spout off bullshit and see how far he could take it without the other party getting the game. Stasiak didn't even let him get off the line.

The only bright spot came when his empty beer was replaced with a fresh one without his asking for it, and even that was bittersweet - the man had been so quick about it, he hadn't gotten to see the waiter at all. 

Eventually the food came. Stasiak trailed off when the dishes were set on the table, and even thanked the man without prompting. But once the plates were down the waiter disappeared again, and Brian was left with nothing but the food to distract himself from Stasiak's rant about the state of the city. 

But hey, at least the food was awesome.

He tuned back in to hear, "-and those goddamn street racers need to be taken down a peg or two. With all the accidents they cause and the budget set aside for the investigation, they're a menace. They all deserve to be put in prison-" and Brian just had to say something in response to that piece of trash. 

"You think they deserve to be in prison just because they like to drive? Naw, they're small fry. They aren't hurting anyone for the most part, and the ones that are are into more shit than just 'racing'. The ones you need to worry about are the gangbangers, and it's not the street racing that's the problem. It's the drug runners. The cartels are the ones that need to be taken out, not people in cars on the street."

Stasiak stared at him with his mouth open, but fuck it, Brian was on a roll. "And another thing, let's say you put those kids in prison for driving cars, what do you expect's gonna happen when they get out? When they can't get a job anywhere, when they've got 'ex-con' stamped on their forehead - what next? They're gonna turn to harder shit, to the real criminal activities." 

He narrowed his eyes. "And anyway," he continued, "they're well organized. Streets blocked off, deserted roads in the middle of the night - they're not exactly threatening the 9-5 crowd. Attitudes like yours lead to increased fatalities." 

Stasiak was still gaping idiotically at him, and Brian let himself feel the frustration for another moment before locking it away again. 

He swallowed the last of his beer and eyed the half-finished plate in front of him. He wasn't really hungry anymore. 

With hindsight, Brian figured he'd gotten a little too passionate there. Stasiak was a dick but he mostly followed the rules from what Brian had pieced together. Brian, on the other hand, mostly... didn't. He got results and he never actually put away someone who wasn't guilty, but his methods were less by the book and his hobbies were definitely on the grey side. If Stasiak put together that Brian liked to race cars off track, Brian was gonna be screwed. 

But that was only if Stasiak turned out to be smarter than he appeared, and honestly? He didn't look that smart to begin with. Like now: that wasn't calculation in his gaze, it was confusion. Like he didn't get what he'd said to provoke Brian's comments. 

Or like he hadn't thought Brian was intelligent enough to have actual opinions, he thought bitterly. Maybe it was time to cut his hair again. The surfer-dude look definitely had its downsides, something he noticed every time he'd spent too much time in the sun. 

The silence was getting downright awkward when the waiter appeared again. Brian tried to mask his relief, but it had been a shitty night and odds were good he was showing more than he wanted to.

"How is everything? Can I get you anything else?" he said, and Brian fought back the first three things that came to mind. 

He scratched his neck instead. "Fine, thanks. But I think I'm done." He nudged his unfinished meal away from himself and then felt weirdly guilty at the half-full plate. "The food was great," he offered.

Across the table Stasiak coughed and muttered, "Yes, it was." To Brian he said, "Just the bill, I think?"

Brian nodded and the waiter left. They sat in silence for a minute, and then Stasiak cleared his throat and said, "I guess I'll see you at the office at some point?" At Brian's slow nod, he went on. "Well, it was worth a shot anyway. Have a good night." And with that he stood up, left some money on the table, and wandered away. 

Brian stared at the empty seat incredulously, unsure if that was a dick move or a classy one. He'd certainly never walked out like that on someone before, but at the same time: thank Christ that was over. 

Elbows on the table, he scrubbed his hands through his hair and groaned. When he pulled his head up again the waiter was standing there, a small smirk on his face. He said, "Rough night?" and the urge to hit something that had washed over Brian at the sight of that knowing smirk dissipated at the consolation he heard in the words.

Brian laughed bitterly. "That, right here, is why you should never go on a date as a favour to a friend. Now I'm going to have to get revenge." His smile felt savage. "I can guarantee it's not gonna be pretty." The waiter chuckled and Brian felt the last of his tension wash away. "Hey, thanks for the beer," he said. "It was a lifesaver." He grinned.

"I have to say, I was surprised when you didn't opt for the hard stuff." The waiter picked up the bills Stasiak had left behind and put them into the black billfold he was carrying. Brian held his hand out for the check, ready to add his own money to the total, but the man only raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just needed something to make it bearable," he said distractedly. "Hey how much do I owe you? I know he didn't leave enough to cover the tab." The three twenties left on the table would have covered Stasiak's meal, but not Brian's too. 

"Don't worry about it," the man said reassuringly. 

Brian snorted. "Yeah, no." He shifted in the chair and got his wallet from his pocket, pulling four twenties out. "I'm not leaving my tab unpaid." He smiled. "Wouldn't want you getting in trouble with the boss." 

The man's eyes were amused. "You really don't gotta worry about that. 'Sides, like I said: you had a rough night."

Huh. 

"You looking to buy me dinner?" He let enough heat into the words so that his meaning would be clear, but not so much that he'd get a fist coming towards him if he was wrong.

Dark eyes held his. “We could do that.”

Brian grinned. This night was turning out to be way better than expected. "I’m Brian.”

“Dom.”

“So…”

Dom laughed. “What, you want dinner now? Didn’t you just not finish my food?” 

Brian bit his lip and looked up at Dom through his eyelashes. 

“Does that normally work?” Dom asked. 

Brian blinked. “Does what normally work?” 

“The act.”

Dom was still standing next to the table, looking down at Brian, but it didn’t feel like he was looming or judging. It just felt like Brian was being seen. “Most times, yeah.”

Dom looked at his watch, then back at Brian. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I can leave in half an hour. You’re welcome to sit at the bar. If you want.” 

Yeah, Brian definitely wanted. He could wait for 30 minutes if it meant some up close and personal time with Dom. When he stood up from the table and Dom didn’t step back, Brian noticed he was a little taller than Dom. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’ll be at the bar.” He got to see Dom's eyes drop to his mouth when he licked his lips, and that heady feeling carried him all the way to the semi-comfortable bar stools across the room.

The bartender nodded at him. "What can I get you?"

Brian put a twenty on the counter. "A glass of water would be great, man. Thanks." The guy looked at him like he was crazy, but a moment later Brian had a cold drink in front of him, so obviously being crazy wasn't going to stop him from getting served. The twenty had disappeared. 

The restaurant was nice. Brian had been aware of it earlier, but earlier he'd been trying just to get through dinner without completely antagonizing a coworker. Even though he and Stasiak nominally worked in different areas, Trinh worked with them both. And Trinh was pretty much the only one Brian could stand to be around for long stretches at a time, so not pissing her off was high on Brian's work priorities. 

Best of all, she never made veiled hints about his supposedly-sealed juvie record. That alone put her far and away above the rest of them. 

Brian had picked out two likely adulterers and one expecting couple when Dom returned. Glancing sideways, Brian noted Dom's white collared shirt now had a few buttons undone. It was a pretty distracting view, but Brian managed to drag his eyes further up and smile. "Hey."

Dom's eyes crinkled in the corners when he grinned, and whoa was Brian fucked here. He'd only just met the guy and was already thinking things like how _adorable_ that was. Christ. 

"Hello to you, too. You ready to get out of here?" Dom made an expansive gesture towards the exit as if Brian needed the extra hint. 

Really not the case. 

Brian stood up and Dom nodded to the bartender. "See you tomorrow, Leon. Thanks for the help today." 

"You know it, dawg."

Dom caught Brian's eye and they headed out. 

"So," Brian said teasingly. "Do you often pick people up at your table?"

Dom said, dry as the desert, "Only the pretty ones. Do you flirt with all your servers?"

Brian beamed. "Only the ones that flirt back."

The sun was low in the sky now, and the air was cool enough that Brian wasn't immediately sweltering in his suit. The disadvantages of agreeing to a date after work with someone from the office included not going home and changing. Thinking of Dom's partially unbuttoned shirt, Brian started pulling at his tie while moving across the small lot to his car. "Hold up a sec, I just gotta get this off." 

Knot finally undone, Brian tossed the tie onto the passenger's seat and closed the door, turning around. Dom was a lot closer than he'd thought, and he was running appreciative eyes over the lines of Brian's Skyline. 

Brian preened a little. He'd rebuilt her himself, and it was always nice to see his work was appreciated. 

"Nice job on the manifolds." 

Brian had to swallow. "You know cars?"

Dom snorted. "Do I know cars. Yeah, you could say I know a little about cars."

Brian had a sudden paranoid thought that he was being set up, that Dom was a plant, that this fucking gorgeous guy who liked cars and apparently Brian was being inserted into his world to trip him up or get something on him or -

He slammed the brakes on that line of thought. He hadn't actually done anything wrong. Yeah, he raced, but that alone wouldn't warrant some kind of sting operation. And besides. Dom was not exactly subtle. If the FBI was going to send someone after Brian (not that they would) they'd send someone less... well, Dom-like. 

Dom went on, "So this is what you race? Out on the streets, where it's all ’organized’?"

Brian had the bad feeling he was being quoted and mocked for it, but the amusement on Dom's face was too genuine for Brian to work up a really good sense of indignation. Also, hey: Dom had totally been listening in on Brian's dead-end date. Which, come to think of it, might mean he also knew Brian was FBI. Could be a good thing; that conversation never seemed to go down well when Brian initiated it. 

He went with instinct. "I like my chaos a little organized."

A slow smile spread over Dom’s face. “I get that.”

Brian took a breath; his chest felt tight.

“So you seem to know a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about you.” Dom was really close now. “Think maybe we could change that?”

“I don’t know that much," Dom drawled. "But I’ll tell you what. You keep up with me on the road, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Brian rocked back on his heels, mildly insulted. “Keep up with you? Dude, you’d be the one keeping up with me.” Also. "What happened to dinner?" 

Dom sighed at him, laughter in his expression. "You really gonna make me say it?" Brian didn't reply, and after a second Dom took one step forward - wow, he smelled really good - his eyes searching Brian's. Dom lifted an eyebrow and said, straight-faced, "Why don't we make it breakfast instead."

Brian laughed until Dom stopped him with a kiss.


End file.
